Ghosts That We Knew
by kellybelle0927
Summary: When Sookie catches her boyfriend cheating on her, she decides to go on a trip to clear her head, enjoy life as a single woman. However, when she meets a tall, handsome Swede, her resolve gets tested as to how ready she is to accept new love in to her heart. E/S. A/H. Rated M for language and lemons throughout.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Charlaine Harris owns all characters. I own nothing.**

* * *

Ghosts That we Knew

By Mumford and Sons

You saw my pain, washed out in the rain  
Broken glass, saw the blood run from my veins  
But you saw no fault no cracks in my heart  
And you knelt beside my hope torn apart  
But the ghosts that we knew will flicker from view  
And we'll live a long life  
So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light  
Cause oh they gave me such a fright  
But I will hold as long as you like  
Just promise me we'll be alright

So lead me back  
Turn south from that place  
And close my eyes to my recent disgrace  
Cause you know my call  
And we'll share my all  
And our children come, they will hear me roar  
So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light  
Cause oh they gave me such a fright  
But I will hold as long as you like  
Just promise me that we'll be alright

But hold me still bury my heart on the coast  
And hold me still bury my heart next to yours

So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light  
Cause oh they gave me such a fright  
And I will hold on with all of my might  
Just promise me that we'll be alright

But the ghosts that we knew will flicker from view  
And we'll live a long life

* * *

**SPOV**

"Oh my God! Yes!" I squeal when Bill opens up the black velvet box. The ring is a large princess cut diamond, with smaller diamonds going all the way around the band. It is the most beautiful ring I have ever seen. Bill stands up from where he was kneeling on the ground in the most expensive restaurant in town, and slips it on my finger.

"It suits you, darling. It is small and delicate, like you," he says, looking at me fondly.

"I love you Bill Compton," I say, throwing my arms around his neck.

We go back to our dessert, and sip on the champagne, and I can't help but think about all of the wonderful things that life will have to offer us. I am the future Mrs. Compton.

* * *

**Three Months Later**

"Sookie, sweetheart, I can explain. It's not what it looks like," I hear him say as start to walk away from the bedroom. I am walking to the kitchen to get my purse, but he is hot on my heels.

"Bill, I can't look at you right now, or talk to you. That bitch needs to get out of my bed," I tell him. I don't even have the energy to be angry with him right now. I just got off from a 36 hour shift with my ambulance crew, and just wanted to get some sleep. He takes another step towards me, and I hold up my hand, telling him to leave me alone, when I notice the ring. I look up at him, take the ring off, and put it on the counter.

"Sookie, don't be ridiculous," he starts, gesturing to the ring.

"Bill, you have been distant for some time, and now I think I know why. I'm going to Amelia's house for the night," I tell him. I grab my purse and walk out the front door of the house without looking back. As I get into my car and begin to drive away, what just happens finally hits me. I can't stop the tears once they come, and when I get to Amelia's house I use my key to open the front door. When she hears the door open, she spins around, and when she sees me, she immediately pulls me to the couch.

"Sookie, what the hell happened?" she asks, plainly concerned. I then realize that I never called her to tell her that I was going to be showing up at her place.

"Amelia, he's cheating on me," I tell her between sobs. "I walked in after work, and went to the room, and there he was, flopping around on top of her. And you know what, that bitch just looked at me from underneath him like _I _was the one intruding. So, I left his ring on the kitchen counter, got my purse, and headed over here. I'm sorry I didn't call beforehand."

"Honey don't worry about that. I gave you that key for a reason. Go take a hot shower, get some of my pajamas to put on, and I'll pull out the couch and put fresh sheets on it," she says, clucking like a mother hen.

"Amelia, what would I do without you?" I ask her, honestly amazed that I was lucky enough to get such a great friend.

She clucks again, and shoos me to the shower. When I finally peel off my work pants and shirt, it feels great. It feels even better to get out of my socks and combat style boots. Being a paramedic really takes it out of you, especially after you volunteer for the 36 hour shift to get extra hours. I go to stand under the hot spray, and stay there until the water runs cold. I then realize that I've been crying again. I hate that he can make me feel this way. I've known that something like this was coming for some time now—he'd been distant, and cold. A woman knows when her man is lying to her, she just doesn't always know about what. I find a pair of sleep shorts and an old t-shirt in Amelia's drawer, and head back out to the living room.

She greets me again with a cup of tea, and tells me that it will make me sleep. Until then, though, we watch one of the Harry Potter movies, and joke about how great it would have been to be a witch.

I don't remember falling asleep, I just know I wake up with a blanket wrapped around me, and the TV turned off. I stretch, and immediately am hit with the smell of coffee. I pad into the kitchen to find Amelia fussing over her cell phone, sipping on a cup herself. When she looks up, she smiles at me, and gets up to pour me a cup of coffee, too.

"Bill called last night," she says over her shoulder. "He wanted to know if you were here. I told him that you were, you were safe, and that he isn't welcome on my property. He wanted to talk to you, but I told him you weren't ready yet."

"Thanks," I say, wishing that she hadn't been caught in the middle of all of this.

"Sook, I don't know if you'd be able to get the time off work, but I'm taking a trip to Paris in a week, and will be there for a month. If you want to go, you can. I'll buy another ticket, and change rooms to a two-bedder," she says, glancing up at me. Her father is Copley Carmichael. He's filthy rich, and is always spoiling his daughter trying to buy her affection.

"Amelia, I don't know if I could get the time off…" I say, wishing that I could. I've always wanted to go to Paris.

"Call the station right now, and speak to your boss. I'll need to know today so I can book the ticket."

When I pick up my phone to call my boss, I am shocked by what he tells me. He tells me that I deserve the break, and that I work too hard to not go on a vacation. When I tell him the length of the trip, I can almost hear him shrugging his shoulders. "Sookie, I don't care how long the trip is. You go, you get rested, you forget about the asshole, and you come back better than ever. We can't have medics working distracted."

I hang up the phone, and look at Amelia, who is watching me expectantly.

"I can go," I say, smiling. I can't wait to get away from this awful place, and try to move on past what has happened. I guess all I need now is a passport.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Charlaine Harris owns all characters. I own nothing.**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

After I hang up the phone with my boss, Amelia and I eat a quick breakfast, and discuss what needs to be done for the trip.

"Amelia, I feel bad about you paying for the trip for me. I feel like I should cover my own way," I say, starting to doubt my decision to go with her.

"Sookie, don't be ridiculous. My dad's paying for it. And he loves you, so he'll be more than okay with it," she says chomping down on a piece of bacon.

I finish the rest of my breakfast in silence, and start to think about how I am going to get all my stuff back from the apartment I shared with Bill. The only thing I can think of is going when he is at work, and starting then. I ask Amelia if she will help me, and when she agrees, I call Jason to see if he'll help with the heavy lifting, which he agrees to. We decide to go over tomorrow, since it will be Thursday and he'll be at work, around 8:00 in the morning.

When we finish eating and Amelia is cleaning up our dishes, we decide to go and get my passport, and since we only have 5 days to get it, we'll have to pay the stupid fee for it to gets rushed. I head to the guest bathroom and slap on a little makeup, and throw on some of Amelia's clothes so we can head out.

As we are driving into town, I realize that I am going to need my proof of residency, and have Amelia drive by the apartment I shared with Bill. When I see his car isn't there, I run inside and get the cable bill which is in my name, an old envelope, my birth certificate, and my social security card. After that, I lock up and run back out to the car, so we can be on our way.

"Amelia, she never even left last night. There are two mugs in the sink, and her coat is sitting on the dining table," I say, wishing that this had never happened. "I wish I just hadn't found out. I'd still be blind and happy, telling him I loved him every night."

"Sookie, don't think like that. The last thing you want is to be in the dark about something like that. It's best to know. It may hurt like a bitch, but would you rather have found out _after_ the wedding?" she asks, making a good point. The wedding was only 4 months away, and I would have been devastated. Not to mention, leaving him would be a lot harder then.

Tired of talking about it, I turn on the radio to the local rock station, and let myself relax, listening to Disturbed. When we finally arrive at the government office, it doesn't take too long to get everything sorted out. I'd always heard that government employees were a pain to deal with, but that woman who helped us was very understanding, and made sure that everything would get pushed through on time. We leave the office, and decide to head to a local Panera Bread for lunch. The bread bowl is a guilty pleasure of mine.

When we order and sit down in a little booth, Amelia sets in heavy on me. "Sookie, are you gonna take him back?"

"Meels, I just don't know. I am so mad at him right now I could spit. But I think I still love him. I don't think that I could just suddenly _stop_ loving somebody. I don't know if that's even possible. Maybe I'm just attached to him, you know? Like I just don't know what to do with myself, and can't imagine not being with him. I don't want to take him back, but if we were to walk in here right now, I don't know what I would do." By the time I am done with my spiel, I am close to tears, and feel the familiar lump back in my throat.

Amelia doesn't say anything; she just reaches across the table and takes my hand. By that time, our food has arrived, and I dig into my comfort food—French onion soup in an enormous bread bowl, covered in cheese. As I am eating, I think about the situation that I am in. This trip to Paris will be good to clear my head, and get some perspective on my situation. I think I'm done with dating for a little while now, though. I don't want to get caught up in something like this again. It's the most painful thing, giving your heart to someone, who can't appreciate it, and not reciprocate.

We finish eating and head back to the car and head back to her apartment so she can show me the place where we are staying, and discuss finding a different place, since I'm going now too. We get back inside and she opens her laptop to show me the current place. It's a cute little hotel, with one bed and one bathroom. Nothing too huge or extravagant. She says she only picked the place to piss her dad off, since he wanted her to stay in a chateau. She says, however, that she thinks the hotel will be too small, even if we were to get a two bedroom room.

And then we find it. The perfect place. It's a chateau style hotel, with two bedrooms. It has a kitchen, living room, huge balcony with a view of the city, and two full bathrooms. When we see it, we absolutely fall in love with it, and book it for the whole months that we will be in Paris. With the room, booked, the trip feels more real, and I can't wait.

The next day, I wake up and pad out to the living room to get coffee. Today is the day that we are going to clean my stuff out of the apartment. I sit at the table, just staring, letting my coffee get cold when I hear Amelia enter the room. She immediately comes over and wraps her arms around me, giving me a huge hug. We part, and she gives me a knowing look, and refreshes my coffee for me.

When it is time to leave, I just wear my paramedic uniform—I'll just change when I have more of my clothes available. We end up taking separate cars so we can haul more stuff over when we are done, and take fewer trips. We get to the apartment, and I just sit in my car for a couple minutes. I finally get the nerve to get out of the car and walk to the front door. When I walk in, I see that the place is trashed. There are dirty dishes everywhere and take out containers all over the counter. Oh well, not my problem anymore. I do notice, though, that the tramps things are finally gone. We start working in the extra bedroom, since most of the stuff in there is mine anyways, especially the books. When we are done in there and have the boxes labeled, we head into the kitchen and pack up in there. I take all of the utensils that I purchased, as well as all of the small appliances that I purchased.

By the time we are done in there, it is nearing 10:30, and I see Jason's truck pulling up out front. I run out the front door, and wrap my arms around him.

"Hey, Sook, it's alright. We'll get your stuff out of this asshole's place soon," he says, as he hugs me back. We walk inside and he sits me down at the table. "Tell me what happened."

So I tell him. I tell him about walking in and seeing the two of them in bed together. I tell him about leaving that night and staying at Amelia's house. I tell him about the fact that I don't even know if I'm that sad. And finally, I tell him about the trip to Paris. By the time I finish, he is pacing the small kitchen area.

"I don't like that you're goin' so far away, sis," he says, concerned.

"I know, Jason, but I need to do this. I need to be away from this place."

He nods his head, and I decide to leave it at that. We eat a little bit of lunch, and decide to tackle the living room next. I don't know if I can handle doing the bedroom until I absolutely have to. Fortunately for me, _I _purchased the 50" flat screen. He deserves that bit of misfortune. We finish in there, and the only place left to clear out is the bedroom. I walk in, and just decide to do it, and not think too much about what I have to do. I pack up all of my clothes and shoes from the closet, and then get my things from the dresser. I also purchased the dresser, so all of his things end up lying on the bed. When I finish there, I go to the bathroom and gather everything in there, and then am done. Jason hauls all of the boxes to the front door, and lets me do another walk through of the apartment, to make sure I didn't forget anything. I pick up a few things along the way to toss onto the top of the first box I see.

When I am done, I have Jason take the boxes to each of our cars, and try to fit them all inside. Luckily, they do fit. I take one more look around the front room, and set my key down on the counter, where my ring was still sitting. I lock the door behind me, and walk out of my old life, ready to step into whatever awaits me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Charlaine Harris owns all characters. **

* * *

**Chapter 3**

The next few days seem to fly by. I know that I should probably start apartment shopping, but I just can't seem to rationalize doing it, since we are going away for an entire month. I keep getting calls from Bill, and lots of text messages, and I decided a few days ago to change my number—at least I won't be hearing from him in Paris. That would be awful.

Amelia and I have been keeping ourselves busy, preparing for the trip. We don't do much clothes shopping, since we figure we'll be doing enough of that once we are there. We do, however, do a lot of carry on shopping. Things like hand sanitizer and toothpaste, just in case we don't have time to buy it as soon as we land.

Today is finally Monday, and we are up at a God forsaken 4:15 in the morning, so we can be at the airport two hours early for our 7:30 flight. Whoever came up with the "two hour early" rule really needs to think about these early morning flights. I am up stumbling around, making sure everything is packed and ready to go, and finally make it into the kitchen to get some coffee. I have always made fun of Amelia's Keurig, since I drink so much coffee—but let me tell you, when you forget to put the pot on the night before and don't have time to make one, it sure is nice to have that little sucker. I am sitting at the kitchen table drinking the coffee when Amelia comes stumbling in, too. She makes her own cup, and sits down at the table with me.

"Are you going to fly comfy, or nice?" she asks suddenly.

I look at her strangely, and then answer that I am flying comfy.

"But don't you think that you might want to go out or something once we arrive?" she asks, looking at me expectantly.

"Amelia, it is a fifteen hour flight. We won't be getting anywhere 'til 10:00 tonight. I'm not going out," I tell her with finality. "You can go if you want, but my ass is going to be in bed."

"I guess you're right," she says, sounding disappointed. Oh well. We'll be there for a month. There'll be plenty of time to go out and explore Paris at night.

We finally leave Amelia's place at 5:15 and arrive at the airport at around 5:45, since she lives so close. Because it is so early, we luckily make it through the checked bag area and the security area relatively fast, and have plenty of time to burn before our plane starts to board. We sit in the terminal for a little while, playing on our cell phones—it's not like the battery needs to last—and just engaging in some small talk. That's when Amelia decides to bring up the heavy topic,

"Sook, are you sure you're okay to do this? To be so far away, I mean? I know it's a little late to ask if you want to back out, but I don't want you to resent me for talking you into a trip you didn't want to take," she says, sounding worried.

"Amelia, I'm okay with it. I'm excited. I _need _this. I need to get away, and get my mind off things. I just caught my fiancé cheating on me. No, I guess I'm not okay with the situation that I'm leaving behind, and yeah I kind of feel like I'm running. But I'm okay with the trip…if that makes any sense," I say, starting to laugh. _I _don't even understand what I just said. I don't know how Amelia is going to.

"So what if you meet a hot guy in Paris?" she asks, looking at me. She's being completely serious.

"Meels, I just don't know. I want to say that I'll be a strong, single woman, and just say no to the temptation, but sometimes I feel like such a hopeless romantic, that I don't know what would happen. Just know that I am going to try my best to not be romantic with anybody. I'm just not ready for all that," I say, serious as well. I don't want to be in another relationship, and I _definitely_ don't want to be in a relationship with somebody an ocean away. I sigh, hoping that I can keep my resolves strong.

* * *

**15 Hours Later**

We finally arrive in Paris. Finally. The plane ride went as expected—long as hell and uncomfortable. When we get off the plane, we file into the airport, and head for the baggage claim. When we get our bags, we head to the front of the airport so we can hail a cab to take us to our hotel/apartment. When we pull up in front of the building, I am flabbergasted.

"Amelia, this isn't the apartment we talked about…" I trail off. It is a huge tan building, with wrought iron balconies in front of every window. I am worried that she changed the hotel, because she couldn't afford the other one.

"Oh, shit I forgot to tell you. This is a building my dad owns. So we need to decide if we want one apartment or two," she says simply.

"What do you mean one or two?"

"Well, do we want two, two bedroom apartments, or one, two bedroom apartment," she says, looking at me expectantly. "Sorry, I forgot to mention it on the plane earlier. That's what my dad called me about when we were waiting at the terminal."

"Uh, what would you prefer?"

"Well, I intend on having some men and/or women over, so I'd prefer to have my own apartment," she says, looking apologetic. "We could get them adjoining though. I just think privacy would be nice. And then we wouldn't have to decide who gets the nicer room."

I mull that over, and decide that it would be the best idea to get two apartments. The cab driver clears his through, and Amelia apologizes in French and pays him. We get out and walk into the building. The lobby doesn't look that nice, but I don't want to say anything to Amelia.

She goes to the desk, and says who she is, and asks for two suites on the top floor. The woman at the counter hands her the keys, and Amelia motions me to the elevator. When we arrive at the top floor, she hands me my key, and she goes to her own room to drop off her bags and get comfortable. I unlock my door and drop my bag as soon as I see it.

The apartment is two floors and immediately opens into a huge living room with a fireplace. Adjoined to the living room is the kitchen area, which has everything I could need. There is a bar area, and is very warm and inviting. The color scheme so far seems to be a beige color and red. I walk up the stairs, and find a huge room, with a huge bed to match. The walls are all rustic stone and the ceiling looks like wood. The floor is hardwood. The highlight, though, is the huge hot tub in the corner of the room—yes, as in, in the room with the bed. It has a huge closet, and shelf space. I found my bedroom.

I go back downstairs, and notice there is another bedroom. This one is more convenient, but just not as pretty. I still opt for the upstairs room. I grab my luggage from the entryway when I hear a knock at the door. It's the bellhop, bringing the rest of my luggage. I thank him, and lug everything up to my room. I hang everything up and put on my pajamas and head back to the living room. I call Amelia, and she comes over. We watch a movie and make a list of things that we'll need, namely converters for all of the outlets.

When she leaves, I go upstairs and go to sleep, excited about what Paris will have to offer me, and hoping that this month goes by as slow as possible.

I wake up the next morning, and realize I don't have any groceries. Since this "hotel" is more of an apartment style, there is no room service to call up. I decide to take a shower in the downstairs shower since I don't have a lot of time for a bath, and put on a pair of white shorts and a pretty blue blouse. I finish the outfit with a cute pair of blue wedges. I put my make-up on light, and head over to Amelia's room so we can begin our day.

Once she is up and dressed, we head to the local drug store to purchase things like tooth brushes, toothpaste, and those sorts' things. We then head to an electronics store and buy the convertors that we need for all of our plugs. By the time we are done with all of that, it is time for lunch, and we go to a little diner and order sandwiches. We decide to just walk around the city for the rest of the day to try to get our bearings about us, but right when we are walking out, a man is walking in to the diner. And not just any man. A god of a man. He is at least six and a half feet tall, with blonde hair and blue eyes. He is the most attractive man I have ever seen.

"_Merci_," I say, thinking that he must be French.

"_du är välkommen_,"he says back. "You aren't French, are you?" he asks with a smirk.

"No, I'm afraid not. Is my accent that bad?" I say, embarrassed.

"It's not bad at all. I'm Swedish, and here on vacation. Eric Northman," he says holding a hand out.

"Sookie Stackhouse," I say smiling. We shake hands, and I swear, I feel a jolt of electricity.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, Sookie," he says, and then walks into the diner.

Wow.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Charlaine Harris owns all characters.**

* * *

I walk over to Amelia, heart pounding. She gives me her signature shit eating grin, and loops her arm through mine.

"So who was that piece of _delectable_ man candy?" she asks, nudging me in the side.

"Ouch, that hurt. And that was Eric Northman, here on vacation, and he's from Sweden," I tell her nonchalantly, hoping that she'll drop the subject.

"Shit, girl. You should have gotten his number or something," she says, scowling at me, as if it was her loss.

"Amelia, I'm not ready for that. I wanted to come here and not have to worry about relationships, remember?"

"Honey, you don't have to be in a relationship to enjoy a good fuck with a handsome man," she says, grinning again.

"Amelia Broadway! You know that's not that kind of girl I am," I say, blushing profusely.

"Yeah, but that's why we're in Paris. You don't have to be yourself. You can be someone completely different, and no one will be the wiser. Have some fun, for fuck's sake," she says, forever the eloquent best friend.

I just roll my eyes, and we keep walking, just looking at all the streets and remembering the names, and places that we want to visit. I'm determined to visit the Louvre while we are here, and I tell Amelia so.

"Well, it's only a couple of streets over. We can go if you want," she says, starting to drag me towards the art museum. When we arrive, I can't contain my excitement. This is a once in a lifetime experience, and I'll be damned if I don't soak it all up. I'm most excited about seeing Hammurabi's code and the Mona Lisa, but of course, those are the most touristy attractions. When I finish at the Mona Lisa—which by the way is really small!—I try to find Hammurabi's Code. When I do, I'm annoyed, because there is an extremely tall blonde head blocking my view of the entire thing.

"Um, excuse me?" I say, tapping the giant's shoulder. "Can you move please? Small person trying to see something over here."

But when he turns around, my jaw drops. It's him—Eric from the diner. When he sees me, he smirks down at me, and takes a second to look at my cleavage.

"Well, if it isn't diner girl," he says, finally meeting my eyes.

"Hello, Mr. Northman," I say, not feeling like dealing with male bullshit.

"Please, call me Eric," he says, smirking again. I turn to walk away, when he grabs my hand. And there it is again, that little jolt of electricity.

"Look, Eric, you seem...nice enough, but I really need to meet up with my friend," I tell him, motioning in the general direction of the gift shop where I left her.

"That friend?" he says, pointing at none other than Amelia, who is grinning with an evil glint in her eyes.

"Oh, well I guess she found me..." I say, trailing off because I can't think of any other excuse to leave.

"Sookie, right?" he asks, and I nod. "Can I at least have your number?"

I sigh, and gesture for him to hand me his cell phone. I put in a fake number, and hand it back to him, smiling.

"Thanks," he says. "Can I give you mine?"

I give him my cell and he puts his number in as well.

"Well, Eric, it was...nice seeing you again," I say, although it was more awkward than anything. "I need to get back to my hotel so I can get ready for dinner tonight." I walk away and head to Amelia who is grinning like an idiot.

"Oh my god, tell me everything!" she demands, grabbing my arm.

"There's not much to tell. He's a prick. He was staring at my tits that entire time. I gave him a fake number," I tell her, and her face falls.

"Why would you do that?" she asks increduously.

"Because he's a prick. And I don't want to get involved with anybody, especially not somebody over here, that will have to go back home to fucking Sweden, that I'll never see again."

We walk the rest of the way to the hotel in silence, and we go our separate ways to get ready for dinner. I pick out a black dress, that flows slightly, and black Louboutin pumps—which I saved up for, forever—which make my legs look great. The only reason I am getting dressed up, is we are going to a club when we get done with dinner. I grab a clutch that Amelia lent me, and do my makeup, with red lips and a dark smoky eye.

Amelia comes over dressed in a royal blue dress, pumps a mile high, and light makeup. She looks so different than her usual soccer mom get up.

"You look amazing!" we say at the same time, as soon as we see each other. Amelia's hoping to get laid, while I, on the other hand, just want to have some fun and dance. We head out of the hotel and call a cab, because we both plan on becoming outrageously drunk tonight. When the cab arrives, we send it to the restaurant, and plan our evening. The club we are going to is on the same block as the restaurant, so we won't have to call another cab to get there. It should be a fun place to be, simply because it is made primarily for adults, and there isn't a lot of teenage rifraf hanging out.

We arrive at the restaurant, and the food is absolutely to die for. I had heard that French food was good, but this was fantastic. After our main course, our dessert, and a bottle of wine later, we're ready to head to the club.

When we arrive, Amelia just drags me straight up to the bouncer, and he lets us in immediately, much to my chagrin. When we walk in, I gasp. It's beautiful inside the club. There are black leather couches set up around the perimeter, and a huge black and red dance floor set up in the middle. The theme of the club seems to be black and red, so I fit in perfectly, but Amelia doesn't seem to mind. She's already headed off to the bar to get us drinks, and I pick us out a table before it gets snatched up by someone else. As I am sitting down getting myself comfortable, I hear a familiar voice behind me.\

I turn around, and it is none other than Eric fucking Northman standing next to the table.

"So, I called you today," he said. "And a lovely gentleman named Jose answered."

I groan, and put my head in my hands—I am so embarrassed. I've never had a guy confront me about the fake phone number trick before. I look at him, and he has sat down in the booth across from me, patiently waiting for an explanation.

"I never thought I would _actually_ see you again. I just figured that would be it. I'm not really in a place to start a relationship right now," I tell him blushing. He stands up, and takes my hand, ushering me to the bar.

"Get whatever you want. Pamela will cover it for you," he says, gesturing to the beautiful woman standing behind the counter. She rolls her eyes and scowls at him, muttering something in Swedish, making him laugh. He has a lovely laugh.

"Uh, thanks, Eric. But I don't want to make you pay for all this," I tell him, feeling guilty.

"Don't worry about it, Sookie," he says, smirking again. "It is my bar after all."


End file.
